


Secret Admirer pt2

by Punk_Slime



Series: Secret Admirer [2]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Scream (Movies)
Genre: Creampie, Glove Kink, Hair-pulling, Leather Kink, NOT BILLY OR STU, Other, Reader has a vagina, Rough Sex, Voyeurism, but i really just have a mask kink so like it can be whoever, gender ambiguous reader, ish?, the usual, yeah alright whatever i decided it's danny he's hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_Slime/pseuds/Punk_Slime
Summary: It's time that you and your gentleman caller take it a step further.
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Reader, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/You, Ghostface (Scream)/Reader
Series: Secret Admirer [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082897
Comments: 3
Kudos: 101





	Secret Admirer pt2

The fact that until now, your brain hadn’t stopped and decided this was going too far, was more unsettling to you than the situation you found yourself in. The only thing separating you two was a thin sheet of glass and a wire screen. If he really wanted to put a rock through it, he could. You just stare at each other for a while though. Even this close, you can’t see the eyes behind the mask, but you can feel them boring into you. The initial shock of it all had caused you to let your hand fall slack at your side, but the crackling of a voice on the other end was calling you back.

“Hello?? Is everything okay?”

You clear your throat, eyes still locked on the plastic mask. It’s cheap looking, you can imagine exactly what it smells like. 

“Yeah-... Yeah, sorry. I think it was an animal getting into the trash. I’m alright.”

The pause on the other end comes off as irritated. The superficially sweet tone that returns adds to this.

“Alright, honey. I’m gonna get some sleep, call me if you need anything else.”

“Goodnight,” you want this call to end just as badly as she does. 

The line dies and you drop your phone on your bed. The figure hasn’t left. Or moved at all. You imagine he heard your conversation to some extent. A gloved hand gestures to his left. 

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Yet you find yourself walking to the back door. Possessed by… who knows. A high sex drive you suppose. 

The back door is wide open by the time you reach it, grounding you instantly. What the fuck were you thinking? You had the chance to call for help and you just threw it away. 

Without thinking, you close the door, and immediately your attention is drawn down the hall again. A door slammed shut behind you. Unarmed, and apparently out of your mind, you take a few drawn-out steps down the hallway. 

Correction. Your door had slammed shut. You could see it clearly now. You could hear your phone ringing from inside. 

Well. He’d suggested taking things a step further. Though, at the time you’d assumed it was just dirty talk. The thought of him fucking you himself was just a way to help you get off. 

The swirling mix of excitement and fear is enough to make you dizzy, and it’s the driving force that makes you twist the doorknob with an albeit shaky hand. 

There isn’t a mask waiting for you on the other side, which is what you’d expected. There isn’t much of anything, except your still-buzzing phone sitting in the middle of your bed. 

From where you’re standing, you can’t see the caller ID, and you allow yourself to take the bait. You made it all the way to the bed before the call stopped, and as you lean onto the bed, one knee up, the flash of a camera alerts you to his position. You whip around, eyes wide, only to be met with another blinding flash of light. 

“Strip,” he says plainly, muffled by the mask.

You’re dumbfounded, but you don’t test his patience. First, you start to pull your shirt over your head. 

“Slowly,” he hisses, but you’re already halfway out of the shirt.

You try to make more of a show out of taking off your pajama bottoms, having turned around to face the bed while you do it. Another flash. 

“Stop there. Get on the bed.”

He seems a lot pushier this time around. Not that you mind. You crawl onto the bed, settling on your knees and resting your hands a little too politely in your lap. In all honesty, you’re not sure what to do with them. Or yourself for that matter. 

“Spread ‘em.”

You part your knees, running your hands down either thigh.

Two flashes.

“Take those off, and-“

He cuts himself short as you turn around and promptly get into what you assume is his favorite position (face down into the mattress), making an agonizingly slow spectacle of pulling down your underwear.

The camera clicks a few times but when the room falls silent again, you turn to ask for further instructions.

A leather-clad hand pushes your face back down into the comforter. The other lightly grazes it’s fingertips over the bare skin of your lower back and over to your hip before gripping it roughly. You wince and squirm, and you’re almost certain you can hear a soft sigh.

Both of his shins pin down your calves.

“You’re already wet.”

There was a change in his tone. It was slight, like he was fighting hard not to let it show, but it was there. He was getting excited.

This is the exact image you’d been playing over in your head for a few weeks now, you could only imagine he’d been daydreaming about it too.

The sound of his zipper makes your heart start to pound in your chest. Just like he promised the first time you’d spoken over the phone, he presses his shaft flat against your ass. There isn’t much preparation beyond that though, he’s eager to press the head against your entrance, and even more so to completely sheath himself inside of you.

There’s a long grumblr in his chest, you can feel it as he leans down against you. It seems like it’s taking all his energy to take it as slowly as he is, which isn’t saying much. 

He doesn’t offer you the courtesy of asking if you’re ready, once you’re totally filled up, he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back into you. His pace is relentless right from the rip. His palm moves from your face and yanks you back by your hair.

Now without a buffer, your moans cut through the previously still house. Every so often he tugs at your hair to get you to yelp, but you find yourself getting pushed a little closer every time.

Your scalp burned as he suddenly yanked you back against him, his hips slapping against your ass. The cold plastic of the mask startled you as it touched your neck. 

“I want you to cum all over my cock,” he whispers, his grip on your hair making you cringe, but his voice made your cunt twitch. 

Who were you to deny him that request? Only after a few more pumps the spark shot down through your body, causing you to tense up before shuddering and spitting out obscenities. The show you put on must have helped him reach that mental peak too, because before you’d even stopped spasming his hips jerked up against you one final time and he let out a guttural, shaky moan. 

You could feel the cum dripping down your thighs already, his cock was still twitching inside of you. Finally he let go of your hair, and you collapse onto the bed in front of him. You couldn’t even find the energy left in you to raise any questions, not even about his decision to finish inside of you. He doesn't seem quite as drained, as he zips his pants back up and collects his camera. 

“I’ll call you,” he assures you on his way out.

You can’t help but snort, but it’s probably safe to assume that he isn’t joking.


End file.
